


As simple and as impossible

by Leuven



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Weak for goalie love, so much love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22108333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leuven/pseuds/Leuven
Summary: Marc has been feeling off lately; what or who might be the reason?
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	As simple and as impossible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firetruckyeah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firetruckyeah/gifts).



> It took a good few days and nights but here it is; I truly hope you like it :) Thank you for not leaving me alone in this shipping world, thank you for sharing the Steno madness and filling my world with plenty of Dybain love. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that takes a minute to stop and read, leave a kudos, comment, say hi, you are all wonderful and deserve the world; have a beautiful day!

The night was sweet and quiet, the wind wonderfully crisp and invigorating. Barcelona was the ultimate dream but Germany was home and it never failed to feel like that; it was so good to be back that he felt his heart burst with warmth as soon as he landed; God he so needed to disconnect from the world for a good few days and home was definitely the right place to do so.

He had been feeling a bit off for a few weeks now, incapable of finding the source of his increasing irritability and mood swings; at some point he had given up and had blamed the non-stop stress of La Liga and their fierce fight to keep the top spot. He was aware that there was something else, something heavier than that, but being fully honest, he was not ready to dig that deep so he’d rather keep lying to himself.

He had gone to bed rather late the previous night feeling exhausted, like every single night for the past few months. After just one hour of sleep, however, here he was, restless, thirsty and still totally knackered. After understanding that there was no way to go back to sleep, Marc made his way to the kitchen and poured himself some hot drink, trying to fight the uneasiness rushing through his veins. Lost in his reveries, he didn’t hear his brother arrive.

“Hi M”

“Hei…Sorry, hope I have not woken you up”

Jean-Marcel shook his head “Ah no, you’re fine. Too much food did. How about you?”

Marc shrugged.

“Would you like a refill?” His brother asked, shaking the kettle in his hand.

“Sure...thanks”

“You sure you’re ok?” - Marc nodded - “You seemed a bit off during dinner..”

“Uhmm? Oh no, everything’s fine, yeah, all good, no worries”

His brother smiled kindly and handed him a smoking mug: “You see M, if I wasn’t your brother maybe...just maybe, I would believe you”

Marc shot him a look navigating between curiosity and exasperation; he should have stayed in bed, he wouldn’t be sleeping either but at least would have avoided this conversation he definitely didn’t feel like having right now. Jean-Marcel sent him a warm smile that felt more like a hug; his voice slowly becoming a gentle whisper:

”...a few months ago I heard a rumour. It was nothing but that and I really didn’t believe it, people just love gossiping too much. Looking at your face I am starting to think it was actually true” Marc looked at him intently, confusion written all over his face. “He has a boyfriend, doesn’t he?”

Marc kept staring at his brother trying to look as calm as possible “W-what?” - his trembling voice giving him away.

“I think you know very well what I am talking about. WHO - his brother stressed - I am talking about.”

Of course he knew, he had found out about them himself a few months before Christmas when he had seen them together for the first time; he would have hardly been able to keep them out of his mind ever since.

_Most of the national team were already gone, only a few players remained, waiting in some deserted hall of the airport so they could catch their flight home. Marc was busy stirring his coffee for the umpteenth time when he saw them on the far end of the hall. For a moment he thought he was some fan or a stranger asking for something; as the seconds went on, however, Marc realised the guy next to Bernd was no stranger to him, in fact, he could perfectly be a friend; no wait, it was more than that. The complicity of their gestures and the intimacy of the atmosphere around them was so evident, Marc felt deeply irritated. What was Bernd even thinking? Didn’t he know about the press? True that they were in the middle of a deserted airport outrageously late at night so it was unlikely that even the most eager of journalists would be there but you can never be too careful, right?_

_The second time he saw them was in a little reception they were offered after some match with the national team. It was a really last minute thing, very small and intimate with only a few lucky plus ones on the list. As soon as he made it to his table, Marc realised he had a couple of very special guests on a nearby table and tried his best to ignore the love birds. He chatted the night away, focusing now and then on the food on his plate and enjoying the wonderfully sweet white wine of his glass. By the time the desserts arrived, curiosity got the better of Marc and he shot a discreet look at the happy couple who smiled widely at each other; they had long forgotten their suit jackets in some chair around the room, shirt neck open, sleeves slightly rolled up. Marc did his best to get his attention back to his own table, however, all hope was lost when Bernd’s boyfriend whispered something on the goalie’s ear; Bernd seemed to turn a glorious soft shade of red. Marc wanted to crash his wine glass against the floor and scream in their faces, this was supposed to be about them, the team, who said anything about partners? This was getting too much._

_ He decided to travel to Germany a little bit earlier since he had a few engagements in Berlin before making his way home. Berlin had this quality of always feeling like the right place to be, at any time; so wonderfully international but downright German, coming back always felt like a good idea. After visiting some friends, he decided to grab a coffee and have a walk to clear his mind so he stopped in his favourite café and asked for some latte to go before removing his gloves and sitting down to wait for his drink. He took a quick look at his surroundings when he saw them, sitting in comfy chairs very close to each other. Marc couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream, cry, laugh or run away, so instead he did what hurt the most, discreetly stare at them. They were in public so they could not be very affectionate to each other, press and all that stuff you know, however, their closeness and affection were evident, boosted by the fact that Bernd’s boyfriend could hardly keep his hands off the goalie and seemed to be really struggling not to caress him. “Don’t you dare touch him” Marc’s brain screamed all of a sudden; in a cloud of confusion and agitation, he grabbed his drink and made his way out; things were getting out of control and, at this point, he didn’t even understand what was going on. Or did he?  _

Marc exhaled loudly and looked down, not really ready to turn restless-sleepless-night into confession-night; he tried to keep his voice and expression as unaffected as possible, maybe if he looked ok enough his brother would give up. 

“Yes, I know, WHO you are talking about. What does his relationship have to do with me?”

“You tell me”

“Uhm, nothing?...He is my colleague, sometimes even friend, he is in a relationship and I am happy for him”

“If you are happy for him why do you look so miserable?” -  _ Ok, so his brother was not giving up, wonderful.  _

“I am not miserable...I’m tired...can’t sleep. As I said, his relationship doesn’t have anything to do with me”

“I wouldn’t be so sure”

“And why not?” Spat Marc, now fully out of patience. 

“Because you’re in love with him!”

Marc looked at his brother as if he had just been stabbed in the middle of the chest; an acute pain piercing every fiber of his being. 

“Have you lost the plot?”

“How long are you going to keep lying to yourself?”

“I’m not lying…”

“Look...I don’t care who you are in love with, who you date, who you sleep with, who you marry...that’s your choice and I will always support you. I just think you’re scared and I get it, but you need to start being honest with yourself and….and do something about this, ok?”

Surprisingly his brother didn’t sound angry, his voice felt like the warm and loving hug he needed so much right now.

The atmosphere stilled in the room and time seemed to stop; the truth was out, painful and raw and beautiful like a thorn being finally removed from the skin; it had been hard, confusing, exciting, terrifying, but he had done it, he had finally admitted to himself, and to his brother (though silently) that he was indeed in love, wonderfully and madly in love.

“What am I gonna do?” 

“Isn’t he in Germany visiting his family as well? Why don’t you, I don’t know, go and talk to him?”

“I’m so not talking to him…”

“Ah Marc, cmon, what do you have to lose?” - Jean-Marcel jokingly elbowed his brother in the ribs. 

“Him? And why are you enjoying this so much?”

“You will lose him if you don’t talk to him AND I am not enjoying this ...” - Marc arched an accusatory eyebrow “...well ok, I might be enjoying this a little bit, but honestly M this is so good, you deserve this so much...just, talk to him”

“HE is going to be there…”

“Most likely...so what?”

“How about...I can’t do this?”

“Of course you can…”

“He has a boyfriend, he is happy, he…”

“He’s in love with you”

“Right…”

“Marc I’m serious; the guy is crazy about you and it’s time to do something about it”

“I can’t…”

“He’s a great guy, if he doesn’t return your feelings he will just let you know and you will be able to get some closure and move on; if he does return your feelings …” - His brother smiled mischievously and went to grab the car keys which he pressed against Marc’s chest as soon as he was back in the kitchen “Don’t worry about mum and dad; just shower, get changed and go. Now!”

“It’s 5 in the morning”

“Great, no traffic then”

“But…”

“Now!”

***********

After a good few hours of endless driving, here he was, thinking about every wrong decision he had ever made in his life, wishing this wouldn’t be the new addition to his you-should-have-really-thought-this-through diary. A couple of shy knuckles knocked on the door and he wished he was at a penalty shoot-out in a world cup final, he would definitely feel more relaxed. 

“Hi, sorry, can I speak to….”

“Marc?”

“Uhm Bernd...h-hi...I…”

“Hi…”

Marc gathered all the courage he didn’t think he had left in his overtired body and looked at the other goalie for the first time; if he had ever had any doubt, at that moment he knew for certain: he was deeply in love with him. He just looked so good in anything he wore but that night he seemed to be glowing in his immaculate Arsenal-red Converse, his wonderfully tight jeans and smart black sweater; Marc felt the last strings of his resolution fraying like torn pieces of old forgotten rags. 

Marc blinked a couple of times, took a deep breath and looked Bernd in the eyes, those gorgeous icy-blue eyes that could disarm an entire legion.

“Is..is he here?”

Bernd’s confused expression turned into one of mild annoyance; Marc realised this was going from bad to worse by the second; he had just turned up at Bernd’s door and interrupted a family dinner to enquiry if his boyfriend was home with him, Marc thought he was being very lucky all things considered, he was just getting a bit of a death stare from Bernd when he could’ve closed the door in his face and run to delete his number from his phone’s contacts list. Instead he was still there, willing to hear what Marc had to say. _Not bad._

“Yes, of course he’s here, what do you want?” - spat Bernd

Marc smiled defeated. “I just wish to apologize to him for what I am about to do”. 

Bernd’s features went from exasperation to curiosity flirting with confusion; he opened his lips but Marc bit him to it.

“I’ve come to tell you that I like you; that I really like you, Bernd. I know we have fought, we have competed with each other, at some point we were even so stupid as to hate each other” 

Bernd raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, too taken in by the scene unfolding in front of him.

“I want to think this is who we were, immature boys that couldn’t deal with their professional rivalry and behaved like spoilt kids. I can’t do that anymore, I don’t want that anymore. I know it’s not been easy, of course competition has always been there but...I have laughed so much with your jokes over the last few years...I have learnt so much training by your side...I have enjoyed grabbing coffee at ungodly hours while we were waiting for dawn...too lazy ...and... probably too drunk to go to sleep.

I know this is hardly the love declaration you deserve with no flowers, no candles… you deserve so much and I...just wish I could give it to you...everything, anything that would make you happy. I...sorry I bothered you I..just needed to tell you that I love you and that...if someday you fancy a coffee...I’ll come knocking at your door with one of those outrageous frappes from Starbucks you love so much, yeah those without coffee and a tone of sugar”.

Bernd bit his bottom lip and smiled coyly at him; Marc pressed a warm kiss to his now slightly cold cheek “Merry Christmas Bernd, I...I hope I’ll see you soon”; Marc turned onto his heels and made his way to his car absolutely drunk on excitement, exhaustion, long forgotten shyness and Bernd’s unique scent. 

He had hardly reached his car when he heard his voice behind him, his full body tingling with anticipation.

“Marc, wait” 

Marc turned around to look at those gorgeous blue eyes again, his wonderfully rich perfume, intoxicating his nostrils; the moment was so perfect that it simply couldn’t be true; Marc was waiting for the blow to come; for once in his life, though, he was thrilled to be wrong.

“He’s not...uhmmm...he’s not home. We broke up a few days ago...I-I did, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you” Bernd smiled widely “T-thank you for being brave for both of us and coming here. I … - Bernd’s cheeks turned a gorgeous shade of intense pink - I love you too Marc, so much, and I would gladly accept that gorgeous sugary beauty you just offered to pay for"

Marc’s smiled was blurred by Bernd’s lips pressed closely against his, a sweet, deliciously eager mouth devouring his own; it was as simple and as impossible as that, just perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi in Tumblr @hereinleuven 😁


End file.
